Recently I converted into a public transportation princess, taking the Metro and bus everywhere I need to go. There are a lot of pros to this mode of transportation, including but not limited to spending only £50 a month for a bus pass instead of £300-£400 for a car. I also love the fact that I don't have to battle Newcastle traffic behind the wheel but instead wait it out it behind the pages of a good book every morning and night. I've read more books the last 6 weeks than I read the prior 6 months combined. It sort of rocks.
Another happy side effect of using public transportation 5 days a week is that I also get to experience some pretty weird shiznit on a regular basis. Here are a couple examples of recent encounters you might find amusing...
This morning while I was waiting for my bus just outside of Newcastle Central Station, I saw a very bizarre occurrence. A seagull swooped down and placed a tube of lipgloss on the ground 3 feet away from me, squawked and then flew away. Seriously, wtf did a seagull want with lipgloss in the first place?
Yesterday morning at 845am a drunk 19 year old girl passed out drunk in the front of my bus while her friends debated whether or not they were going to drag her drunk ass home yet again or just leave her on the bus to sleep it off. YET AGAIN? As in, being this drunk before 9am is a regular occurrence? Dear me!
Monday on the metro I witnessed a group of 10-year-old girls having a debate about whether or not one of the girl's boyfriends was really gay, or just pretending to be so because he didn't want her to kiss him. Their consensus at the end was that he must really be gay because boys don't say their gay if they're not, and who wouldn't want to kiss little miss as she's, and i quote, 'sexy'... Ten or eleven year old girls having this sort of conversation - seriously my head nearly imploded.
One of my favorite journey-mates is this middle aged transvestite man who periodically gets on our really crowded morning bus cross-dressed to the nines and then instead of facing forward like everyone else does, (s)he stands, facing towards the back, staring blankly backwards at the seated and standing passengers who are all facing frontwards. I love this guy, he really brightens my morning when I see him. I love seeing my British seatmates struggle to discern the most polite way to handle someone facing the wrong direction. Honestly, I really do think the 'facing the wrong direction' part bothers them more than the fact he's wearing a killer woman's business suit with red pumps and a bad wig. Brits don't really care about a person's sexual or wardrobe preferences, but going against the natural order of things on a bus or in queue are really big no nos. Like seriously, I think they'd flog you for jumping in a queue if they didn't have to apologise profusely afterwards.
14.1.09
26.12.08
letting a little 'sunshine' in my life...
These extremely short winter days in England really zap me for some reason. This winter and last I have felt completely and utterly exhausted from late November onwards. Doesn't matter how much sleep I get, I'm constantly tired and when I'm tired, I'm not very pleasant to be around. And let's face it, I don't have many friends here as it is, so I really need to do something about it! Last year this cycle didn't really end until late spring and I anticipate the same again this year. I had never heard of 'Seasonal Affective Disorder' until I moved here, but the more I think about it and study my personal patterns, the more I realise I may be suffering from SAD, and honestly I probably always have but didn't realise the extent of it until I moved to a climate where the winter only allows 7-8 hours of light per day. These 'dark nights' really do exacerbate things a bit!
Will and I both took a Circadian Rhythm test today on the Philips site, and as I expected my results showed that I am much more impacted by these sunless winter days than my darling husband - which partially excuses my periodic moody bitchiness that is worse in the winter.
(Although honestly I can't blame SAD for all of my brattiness because let's just face it - I'm pretty high maintenance full stop and I am the first to admit it. That said, those who know me realise it's much worse when I'm tired, and in the winter I'm tired ALL THE TIME! )
A special thanks to my sister for supporting my stance that it's not ALL my fault by saying: "Yeah I've always thought you are worse in the winter!". Upon reflection, I realise this means she thinks I'm a beotch year-round, but just not as bad in the summertime; however she also admitted she must suffer from SAD year-round because she's never nice, which tickles me to no end. Ah Susie, how I love little pessimistic you.
Anyway, I've just ordered the Lumie alarm clock and I seriously want it to work. The whole theory behind it is that instead of waking you with an alarm, it slowly lights up creating a "false sunrise" and provides you light you so desperately need while also gradually waking you up instead of jolting you with a buzzer. Yes, I realise this sounds gimmicky and stupid, but I'm willing to try anything at this point as it's a long long way until April/May for 'natural' relief of these winter blues.
Will and I both took a Circadian Rhythm test today on the Philips site, and as I expected my results showed that I am much more impacted by these sunless winter days than my darling husband - which partially excuses my periodic moody bitchiness that is worse in the winter.
(Although honestly I can't blame SAD for all of my brattiness because let's just face it - I'm pretty high maintenance full stop and I am the first to admit it. That said, those who know me realise it's much worse when I'm tired, and in the winter I'm tired ALL THE TIME! )
A special thanks to my sister for supporting my stance that it's not ALL my fault by saying: "Yeah I've always thought you are worse in the winter!". Upon reflection, I realise this means she thinks I'm a beotch year-round, but just not as bad in the summertime; however she also admitted she must suffer from SAD year-round because she's never nice, which tickles me to no end. Ah Susie, how I love little pessimistic you.
Anyway, I've just ordered the Lumie alarm clock and I seriously want it to work. The whole theory behind it is that instead of waking you with an alarm, it slowly lights up creating a "false sunrise" and provides you light you so desperately need while also gradually waking you up instead of jolting you with a buzzer. Yes, I realise this sounds gimmicky and stupid, but I'm willing to try anything at this point as it's a long long way until April/May for 'natural' relief of these winter blues.
24.12.08
How quickly the year has passed...
I've been living permanently in the UK for 13 months now. This is my second Christmas here, although I sort of count it as my first because last year I had just arrived really and didn't have much time to think about the holidays really. I just found this pic of Will and I in our Christmas hats last year and I have three observations:
1 - My hair was so short just a year ago - wow! I'm not sure if I like it better in a bob or longer, jury is still out on that one...
2 - I have definitely put on some weight since then - I can see it in my (our) faces. Oh well, happiness (and yorkshire puddings) do that to you.
3 - Whew, thank God I took another chance on Will and building a life here in England - two Christmases ago I never thought it would have been possible.
Now, it's not all peaches and cream here in the UK. The damp damp damp climate and lack of sun in the winter means I get WAY more colds than I should. I am pretty lonely for my family and friends back in the States, especially when it could be at least 6-8 more months before I can make it back for a visit. I also am sad for Will, as I know he has holes in his family life that I can't fill and this time of year is hardest on him. But really, I try to set all of that aside and recognise the fact it would be SO much worse and I'm pretty damn lucky to be living abroad, working in a job I'm passionate about and sharing my life with a man who doesn't mind doing all the ironing. Life is good.
1 - My hair was so short just a year ago - wow! I'm not sure if I like it better in a bob or longer, jury is still out on that one...
2 - I have definitely put on some weight since then - I can see it in my (our) faces. Oh well, happiness (and yorkshire puddings) do that to you.
3 - Whew, thank God I took another chance on Will and building a life here in England - two Christmases ago I never thought it would have been possible.
Now, it's not all peaches and cream here in the UK. The damp damp damp climate and lack of sun in the winter means I get WAY more colds than I should. I am pretty lonely for my family and friends back in the States, especially when it could be at least 6-8 more months before I can make it back for a visit. I also am sad for Will, as I know he has holes in his family life that I can't fill and this time of year is hardest on him. But really, I try to set all of that aside and recognise the fact it would be SO much worse and I'm pretty damn lucky to be living abroad, working in a job I'm passionate about and sharing my life with a man who doesn't mind doing all the ironing. Life is good.
21.12.08
utterly lazy weekend
We have done nothing this weekend. Nothing of consequence at least. And, oh was a weekend of nothing so wonderful! To recap...
Saturday morning we got out of bed a little after 11am. Yes, 11 am ! Unheard of normally because either my bladder or the children who live upstairs wake us up earlier most weekends. Barely awake, we trudged over to the post office before it closed, where I nearly had a panic attack sending off my passport, marriage certificate and UK Visa off to the US Embassy for passport renewal. (Seriously, the entire walk home from the post office I was like OMG what will I do if it's lost? What will I do?! How can I trust that Royal Mail woman? What if they lose it? My life will be over! Must. Calm. Down).
Anyway after recovering from the post office traume and finishing off my organic fair trade skinny latte (which wasn't much better than the ASDA stuff I brew at home), we walked into Gosforth, bought some magazines and had lunch at the Brandling Arms pub, where we then lazed around and read/drank for several hours. Good food, leather couches, white wine and warmth all for less than £20 - can't beat it. We headed home when it was starting to get dark (which is about 345pm these days!), made supper and pretty much did nothing the rest of the night but watch telly and talk about how disgusting the flat is, making promises of cleaning 'tomorrow'. I think I was in my PJs by 830pm - exciting huh?
Today we slept in until after 10, made a lovely breakfast of poached eggs, fresh-baked baguette and bacon from the Gosforth butcher and caught up on The Daily Show whilst drinking coffee. We've watched 3 movies today - Bottle Rocket (hilarious!), The Escapist (predictably average) and Iron Man (AWESOME, oh and I am so in love with RDJ!). We also did a deep clean of the flat, cooked another meal and basically stayed in the entire time. Boring to many, lovely to us. And cheap! After last weekend's Manchester spending spree I was quite happy to stay in.
Oh, yeah. We watched the latest Simpson episode (or the latest one showing in the UK to be more precise). I just don't see how they keep churning them out so successfully. How in the hell do they keep that show relevant after so many years? It started in 1987 on Tracie Ulman - 21 years ago - and still is funny and modern to this day. And oh, that last sentence just made me feel really old - jeez, 1987 doesn't actually seem that long ago anymore. Ugh.
Only one remotely unpleasant thing to note from the weekend, and really it's nothing big. My current 'trauma' is that my Christmas tree is shedding like MAD. I really think it might have pine-tree alopecia or something. I have NEVER had a tree shed this bad, and before you comment - yes, I am watering it. The needles are coming off at such a rate that some of the ornaments are sliding off bare twigs with the the slightest vibration from the wind as you walk slowly past. It's absolutely annoying! I sweep them up twice a day at least, and I have NO IDEA how we're going to get that thing out of this 2nd floor flat (3rd floor US) without a huge mess in the hallways. Ugh, how I miss my old place in Columbus where I could just chuck the sucker out the back balcony and drag it to the street without a care in the world. Those were the days!
Back to work tomorrow. Which means going back to nothing to work on. Starting a new job at Christmas time isn't exactly a thrill a minute, but I shouldn't complain I suppose. I'm just really sick of CBTs and staring at the company logo while drinking vending machine coffee for hours on end. My boss says after the new year things will pick up and I won't have a minute to breathe, so I am trying to enjoy the downtime while I can. He's taking me to our London location Tuesday, which means flying down and back in a single day (the benefit of working for an airline). They call it 'Duty Travel'. Makes me feel like I'm in the military or something!
Ok, so enough droning on for now. I'm going to attempt to blog more in 2009, but hopefully my subject matter will be a little more interesting by then.
x
Saturday morning we got out of bed a little after 11am. Yes, 11 am ! Unheard of normally because either my bladder or the children who live upstairs wake us up earlier most weekends. Barely awake, we trudged over to the post office before it closed, where I nearly had a panic attack sending off my passport, marriage certificate and UK Visa off to the US Embassy for passport renewal. (Seriously, the entire walk home from the post office I was like OMG what will I do if it's lost? What will I do?! How can I trust that Royal Mail woman? What if they lose it? My life will be over! Must. Calm. Down).
Anyway after recovering from the post office traume and finishing off my organic fair trade skinny latte (which wasn't much better than the ASDA stuff I brew at home), we walked into Gosforth, bought some magazines and had lunch at the Brandling Arms pub, where we then lazed around and read/drank for several hours. Good food, leather couches, white wine and warmth all for less than £20 - can't beat it. We headed home when it was starting to get dark (which is about 345pm these days!), made supper and pretty much did nothing the rest of the night but watch telly and talk about how disgusting the flat is, making promises of cleaning 'tomorrow'. I think I was in my PJs by 830pm - exciting huh?
Today we slept in until after 10, made a lovely breakfast of poached eggs, fresh-baked baguette and bacon from the Gosforth butcher and caught up on The Daily Show whilst drinking coffee. We've watched 3 movies today - Bottle Rocket (hilarious!), The Escapist (predictably average) and Iron Man (AWESOME, oh and I am so in love with RDJ!). We also did a deep clean of the flat, cooked another meal and basically stayed in the entire time. Boring to many, lovely to us. And cheap! After last weekend's Manchester spending spree I was quite happy to stay in.
Oh, yeah. We watched the latest Simpson episode (or the latest one showing in the UK to be more precise). I just don't see how they keep churning them out so successfully. How in the hell do they keep that show relevant after so many years? It started in 1987 on Tracie Ulman - 21 years ago - and still is funny and modern to this day. And oh, that last sentence just made me feel really old - jeez, 1987 doesn't actually seem that long ago anymore. Ugh.
Only one remotely unpleasant thing to note from the weekend, and really it's nothing big. My current 'trauma' is that my Christmas tree is shedding like MAD. I really think it might have pine-tree alopecia or something. I have NEVER had a tree shed this bad, and before you comment - yes, I am watering it. The needles are coming off at such a rate that some of the ornaments are sliding off bare twigs with the the slightest vibration from the wind as you walk slowly past. It's absolutely annoying! I sweep them up twice a day at least, and I have NO IDEA how we're going to get that thing out of this 2nd floor flat (3rd floor US) without a huge mess in the hallways. Ugh, how I miss my old place in Columbus where I could just chuck the sucker out the back balcony and drag it to the street without a care in the world. Those were the days!
Back to work tomorrow. Which means going back to nothing to work on. Starting a new job at Christmas time isn't exactly a thrill a minute, but I shouldn't complain I suppose. I'm just really sick of CBTs and staring at the company logo while drinking vending machine coffee for hours on end. My boss says after the new year things will pick up and I won't have a minute to breathe, so I am trying to enjoy the downtime while I can. He's taking me to our London location Tuesday, which means flying down and back in a single day (the benefit of working for an airline). They call it 'Duty Travel'. Makes me feel like I'm in the military or something!
Ok, so enough droning on for now. I'm going to attempt to blog more in 2009, but hopefully my subject matter will be a little more interesting by then.
x
10.12.08
(sur)Reality Check
Generally speaking, I’m starting to forget I live in a foreign country. Sometimes when I used the word ‘home’, I’m actually referring to here rather than the good old US of A. The transition has been slow, subtle and admittedly painful at times, but it’s happening nonetheless. My vernacular is evolving at an impressive pace, as well as my wardrobe. I’m still glaringly American to everyone here of course, but I am pretty sure I seem less American than before to those Stateside. Basically, I’m acclimating, simple as that. Yet sometimes I have these weird almost out-of-body moments where I become acutely cognizant of the fact that I am an alien, that this culture isn’t MY culture and that really, truly I don’t understand what it’s like to be British any more than they can possibly understand what it’s like NOT to be British. These moments occur less and less frequently these days, but when they do, it’s quite powerful.
I had one of these strange epiphanies today on the Metro, coming home from work. ‘Epiphany’ isn’t exactly the correct word to describe the feeling though, it’s more like a sense of ‘deja-vu’ combined with ‘what the f*ck?’ and ‘where am I?’ all rolled into a ten-second mini roller coaster of the mind. There wasn’t any one thing that set me off today on the train… like every other day, I was reading my book and ignoring everyone around me, constantly stopping mid-sentence to make sure I hadn’t missed my stop. About the third go at double-checking the station sign, I became hyper-conscious of the people around me talking, and how different they sound to me. And then I noticed their clothes and their faces and started thinking about how they grew up compared to me, and within a few seconds I was like ‘Oh my god, I’m in a foreign country, this isn’t my life, this feels so weird.’. A momentary panic ensued followed by the reassuring announcement that the next stop was Regent Centre, which means I was almost home. Home. That’s what I thought instinctively, I’m almost home. And suddenly I didn’t feel foreign or weird or misplaced anymore.
I wonder sometimes if these moments will cease occurring, or if it will always be like this for me? I’m so intrinsically American, and proud to be so, that the thought of losing these periodic moments makes me sad in a way. I don’t crave to be different – I don’t want to stand out all the time. But I also don’t crave to be a nationality I’m not, nor to lose touch with the culture that formed me from infancy. Only time will tell I suppose… wait and see, wait and see.
I had one of these strange epiphanies today on the Metro, coming home from work. ‘Epiphany’ isn’t exactly the correct word to describe the feeling though, it’s more like a sense of ‘deja-vu’ combined with ‘what the f*ck?’ and ‘where am I?’ all rolled into a ten-second mini roller coaster of the mind. There wasn’t any one thing that set me off today on the train… like every other day, I was reading my book and ignoring everyone around me, constantly stopping mid-sentence to make sure I hadn’t missed my stop. About the third go at double-checking the station sign, I became hyper-conscious of the people around me talking, and how different they sound to me. And then I noticed their clothes and their faces and started thinking about how they grew up compared to me, and within a few seconds I was like ‘Oh my god, I’m in a foreign country, this isn’t my life, this feels so weird.’. A momentary panic ensued followed by the reassuring announcement that the next stop was Regent Centre, which means I was almost home. Home. That’s what I thought instinctively, I’m almost home. And suddenly I didn’t feel foreign or weird or misplaced anymore.
I wonder sometimes if these moments will cease occurring, or if it will always be like this for me? I’m so intrinsically American, and proud to be so, that the thought of losing these periodic moments makes me sad in a way. I don’t crave to be different – I don’t want to stand out all the time. But I also don’t crave to be a nationality I’m not, nor to lose touch with the culture that formed me from infancy. Only time will tell I suppose… wait and see, wait and see.
6.12.08
i hate my immune system!!
I have been sick for about 2 months off and on, with a few good days here and there but mostly sick sick sick. Will and I keep passing bugs back and forth and it's exhausting! I mean, I'm so tired of being ill that I'm actually laying off on booze and taking supplements. Seriously, it's that bad. The funny part is that I'm not really getting super sick - just mildly - but it's been going on for so long now that I'm not sure whether or not I could pass a drug test. Over the last couple months I've had to buy enough Sudafed, ibuprofen, Nurofen CF, Night Nurse and other various OTCs that I think the Boots pharmacy staff is starting to suspect I'm running a meth lab rather than self-medicating. Please please please let this be the last of my colds for awhile!!!
28.11.08
Rinse and repeat...
This week marked two major anniversaries for me - it's been a year since I moved to England, and a year since I started back at Acxiom. This week also marked two other significant events in my life - my (second) last day working at Acxiom and my first Thanksgiving abroad.
Leaving Acxiom the second time around was a bit more anti-climactic than the first time I left in 2005. I guess because I always had one foot out the door from the minute I got there, and I never really bonded with that many people. I did my job, did it well and then got the heck out of there at the end of each day as quickly as I could.
Thanksgiving wasn't very traditional at the Boddy household because we didn't have a big family 'do or anything, but the meal was nice nonetheless. I loved cooking it, and I loved eating it even more. Sadly, no pumpkin pie though. :(
On Monday I start my new job as a Project Manager, and I also turn 33 years of age. I look at next week as Fresh Start, Part 2 for Julia Boddy. I'm not sad about getting older - I don't really mind it at all right now. And I'm definitely not sad about leaving Acxiom - can somebody please remind me why I left project management in the first place? Oh yeah, wait, I remember... had something to do with a certain Briton I can't get enough of. Ah well, I get best of both worlds now I suppose. The Best of Britain, so to speak. :)
Anyway I'm too busy playing Facebook scrabble to write anything more than this simple post. Catch you on the flip side yo'.
x
Leaving Acxiom the second time around was a bit more anti-climactic than the first time I left in 2005. I guess because I always had one foot out the door from the minute I got there, and I never really bonded with that many people. I did my job, did it well and then got the heck out of there at the end of each day as quickly as I could.
Thanksgiving wasn't very traditional at the Boddy household because we didn't have a big family 'do or anything, but the meal was nice nonetheless. I loved cooking it, and I loved eating it even more. Sadly, no pumpkin pie though. :(
On Monday I start my new job as a Project Manager, and I also turn 33 years of age. I look at next week as Fresh Start, Part 2 for Julia Boddy. I'm not sad about getting older - I don't really mind it at all right now. And I'm definitely not sad about leaving Acxiom - can somebody please remind me why I left project management in the first place? Oh yeah, wait, I remember... had something to do with a certain Briton I can't get enough of. Ah well, I get best of both worlds now I suppose. The Best of Britain, so to speak. :)
Anyway I'm too busy playing Facebook scrabble to write anything more than this simple post. Catch you on the flip side yo'.
x
3.10.08
The price of (partial) freedom = £595
I haven't blogged in forever and there is so much I need to say, but alas all I can think about today is the fact that I've finally gotten my UK Residence Permit. YIP YIP YAY! It cost me tons of paperwork, a dreary drive to Sheffield, a day off work and £595, but the end result is my emancipation from dependency upon an employer to stay in England. As the letter they gave me with the stamp stated, I am now free to setup my own business or work wherever I want in the United Kingdom. Unfortunately, i don't qualify for the Dole quite yet but that's definitely on the short-list for the next 3-4 years. :)
17.6.08
long lost friend and fading memories
There used to be a time when Kraft Macaroni and Cheese was a major staple of my diet. As in at least once per week, usually more often. I would sometimes add shredded cheese, or jalepenos, or tuna or chili but in the end my main love was the boxed mac and cheese itself. And it was a long lasting love affair we had together, probably the longest one in my entire life. Until last June, when we parted ways once I realised how many points M&C has on weight watchers. And alas, I sure did miss this American classic !
I think it's been about a year since I actually ate any Kraft Mac & Cheese. At first it was because of WW, and then it was because I moved to the UK where it's not sold. In April I smuggled two boxes back with me from the States; however I had resisted the urge to eat this dear friend until tonight, a night when Will is out and I can be an indulgent American junk foody with little or no whining.
My plan was to skip lunch so that I was super hungry, then make the M&C for an early dinner and eat the whole box myself. As I boiled the noodles, I was so excited. I added a wee bit of shredded cheddar, some fresh ground pepper and some Cavendar's Greek seasoning and then dove straight into a huge bowl. At first it was bliss, each and every bite more satisfying than the next. For about six bites, that is...Let's just say that I'm SO glad I didn't put a load of salt into it like I would have back home, because apparently my tastebuds are changing here and super salty processed foods like mac and cheese, um, well they kinda gross me out!
I ended up throwing away a little under half of it, which is such a shame considering how much I used LOVE mac and cheese. I mean, seriously, I could eat it five days a week back in the day and now I can barely eat one bowl.
What is wrong with me ? I feel so un-American, so un-me! Couple this with the fact that I could NOT remember the American terms for a couple of food items this week, such as aubergines and sunblushed tomatoes, I am really freaking out about my obviously fading American-ness. I can cope with the changes in my spelling and speech, because I'm basically paid to write emails and talk on the phone all day long and my primary interfaces are English; however losing my American food identity is just completely unacceptable! Next thing you know, I'll prefer tea over coffee and calling cookies 'biscuits' ! And the final step is everyone telling me I 'sound just like Madonna' - fuck that shit !
Time to watch some American cooking shows online and get my new British-leaning self in check. Or maybe I'll watch Scrubs. Enough Zach Braff can cure me, I'm sure of it !!
I think it's been about a year since I actually ate any Kraft Mac & Cheese. At first it was because of WW, and then it was because I moved to the UK where it's not sold. In April I smuggled two boxes back with me from the States; however I had resisted the urge to eat this dear friend until tonight, a night when Will is out and I can be an indulgent American junk foody with little or no whining.
My plan was to skip lunch so that I was super hungry, then make the M&C for an early dinner and eat the whole box myself. As I boiled the noodles, I was so excited. I added a wee bit of shredded cheddar, some fresh ground pepper and some Cavendar's Greek seasoning and then dove straight into a huge bowl. At first it was bliss, each and every bite more satisfying than the next. For about six bites, that is...Let's just say that I'm SO glad I didn't put a load of salt into it like I would have back home, because apparently my tastebuds are changing here and super salty processed foods like mac and cheese, um, well they kinda gross me out!
I ended up throwing away a little under half of it, which is such a shame considering how much I used LOVE mac and cheese. I mean, seriously, I could eat it five days a week back in the day and now I can barely eat one bowl.
What is wrong with me ? I feel so un-American, so un-me! Couple this with the fact that I could NOT remember the American terms for a couple of food items this week, such as aubergines and sunblushed tomatoes, I am really freaking out about my obviously fading American-ness. I can cope with the changes in my spelling and speech, because I'm basically paid to write emails and talk on the phone all day long and my primary interfaces are English; however losing my American food identity is just completely unacceptable! Next thing you know, I'll prefer tea over coffee and calling cookies 'biscuits' ! And the final step is everyone telling me I 'sound just like Madonna' - fuck that shit !
Time to watch some American cooking shows online and get my new British-leaning self in check. Or maybe I'll watch Scrubs. Enough Zach Braff can cure me, I'm sure of it !!
9.6.08
Nostalgia
I recently became reacquainted with an old high school friend through email. She found me initially on classmates.com, which I refuse to subscribe to because it's 'pay', so after a week or two of clever profile changes, I was able to tell her where to find me on other FREE sites and eventually we connected. Her name is Amy (yeah, can you believe that - yet another Amy to add to my list - so now we have AmyMo, Acxiom Amy and HighSchool Amy). Myself, Amy and a girl named Kim were fairly inseparable in high school for 2 years, yet somehow I haven't connected with her once in the 15 years past. Probably doesn't help that I moved away from Ohio as soon as I could find an excuse, and didn't return for 10 years, and I pretty much blocked out everything prior to 1996 in my mind at the same time. Coping mechanism in part, but probably mostly due to sheer laziness on my own part - keeping in contact with peeps is hard work !
For obvious reasons, this sudden contact with HS Amy is bringing back a LOT of memories from those days, most of which are much more pleasant and fun in hindsight than reality actually was during my high school years. Thank God for that, huh? Given that I'm not usually prone to nostalgia about those days, I've been in a weird head space over it all as of late. It's quite interesting to me how much I've changed since those days in many ways, while at the same time I think I'm very much the same person deep inside. Amy sure seems to be able to relate to the now-Julie just as easily as the then-Julie, and we haven't spoken in 15 years. Given, we were VERY close back in the day, and I don't get super close to people easily so it makes sense she and I are getting along via email fine, but it's just weird considering I'm 2x as old now as I was when I saw her last.
The other side effect of this reunion is that I'm having dreams about high school again. Any time I am reminded of that time period, my dreams change for awhile. Some of the dreams are pleasant, but there is this recurring one that I can't shake that's not so pleasant. I keep dreaming that there was some problem with my graduation processing in 1993 and they revoked my diploma in modern day, forcing me to go back to High School as a 32 year old woman. And everything I hated about HS is 10x worse as an adult, yet I can't escape because I HAVE to have my diploma to hold a job. The dream situations is completely ludicrous of course, but somehow upsets me every time I have it. I mean, seriously...what's more frightening that having to deal with teenage angst at 32 years of age? Nightmare, I call it.
This weekend I started thinking about what I looked like back then (cringe!). Somewhere in this flat I have some really hilarious pics that I need to scan in and post on flickr. Absolutely shocking how nerdy and misfit I was back then - omg. Seriously, big hair, big glasses and bad clothes. Enuff said.
For obvious reasons, this sudden contact with HS Amy is bringing back a LOT of memories from those days, most of which are much more pleasant and fun in hindsight than reality actually was during my high school years. Thank God for that, huh? Given that I'm not usually prone to nostalgia about those days, I've been in a weird head space over it all as of late. It's quite interesting to me how much I've changed since those days in many ways, while at the same time I think I'm very much the same person deep inside. Amy sure seems to be able to relate to the now-Julie just as easily as the then-Julie, and we haven't spoken in 15 years. Given, we were VERY close back in the day, and I don't get super close to people easily so it makes sense she and I are getting along via email fine, but it's just weird considering I'm 2x as old now as I was when I saw her last.
The other side effect of this reunion is that I'm having dreams about high school again. Any time I am reminded of that time period, my dreams change for awhile. Some of the dreams are pleasant, but there is this recurring one that I can't shake that's not so pleasant. I keep dreaming that there was some problem with my graduation processing in 1993 and they revoked my diploma in modern day, forcing me to go back to High School as a 32 year old woman. And everything I hated about HS is 10x worse as an adult, yet I can't escape because I HAVE to have my diploma to hold a job. The dream situations is completely ludicrous of course, but somehow upsets me every time I have it. I mean, seriously...what's more frightening that having to deal with teenage angst at 32 years of age? Nightmare, I call it.
This weekend I started thinking about what I looked like back then (cringe!). Somewhere in this flat I have some really hilarious pics that I need to scan in and post on flickr. Absolutely shocking how nerdy and misfit I was back then - omg. Seriously, big hair, big glasses and bad clothes. Enuff said.
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